


lifting up my little red skirt

by darcychick



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Sam likes lace panties, and little red skirts, kinky costume play, knife play (not on skin)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 07:14:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4212741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darcychick/pseuds/darcychick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a case at a Halloween party you have to dress up, unfortunately for you, Dean picks the outfit. You can’t quite find it in you to hate Dean when you realise that Sam hasn’t been able to take his eyes off you all evening. When the two of you go to investigate upstairs, who knows what could happen?</p>
            </blockquote>





	lifting up my little red skirt

**Author's Note:**

> read at my tumblr for optimum viewing pleasure (there's a gif) : http://darcy-chick.tumblr.com/post/122290395101/hi-i-was-wondering-if-you-could-write-a

Dean was probably in heaven, you thought, rolling your eyes as you watched the older Winchester strut about the place, girls clinging to his arms. Halloween.  
Every girl in the bar was practically naked, including you, tiny skirts, short tops, despite the chill outside. 

Your legs ached a bit, not able to sit down due to the tiny, tiny red skirt you were wearing. You toes aching in the heels you were forced to don.

“Don’t be a nerd, Y/N. The creature ain’t gonna chase after some frumpy lady.” Dean had teased before shoving the outfit he had bought towards you. 

You were gonna kick Dean’s ass, the ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ looked like it had been made on whore island. The ‘skirt’ was a tiny little red skirt, the crimson fabric held out by a puffy white petticoat, which thankfully helped cover your ass slightly. The top was a low cut, floaty blouse, cinched in by a black corset.  
You had insisted on having your angel blade strapped high on your thigh, certain that it would kill the creature you were hunting. Despite your blade, you felt seriously exposed dressed like this, not helped by the leering second glances you were on the receiving end of. You felt slightly better standing by Sam’s side, your tall friend seemed to intimidate most of the guys off. 

If you used this as an excuse to huddle a little closer to Sam, well, who could blame you? You looked up at Sam, he had had this weird expression on his face the entire time you had been here, his jaw tight and ticking like he was grinding his teeth ever so slightly. 

You looked back at your drink, taking a sip before scanning the party, 

“I don’t think our guy is here, Sam.” You said, raising your voice a bit to be heard over the loud thump of the music. 

“Nah,” He said, “This has been a waste of time, huh?” 

“Not for Dean,” You nodded at where Dean was making out with a blonde against the wall. 

Sam snorted, “It never is, Dean could go to a nunnery and get laid.” 

You laughed loudly, mainly because it was probably true. “So are we gonna get out of here? Or do you wanna check out the other rooms, see if our guy has been working upstairs.” 

Sam nodded tightly, motioning to Dean that we were heading upstairs. Dean winked, strangely enough before you made your way upstairs first. Maybe you were a little tipsy otherwise you might have insisted that Sam go up first rather than being forced to stare at your lace covered ass and you definitely wouldn’t have put a little more sway into your hips. A quick glance over your shoulder confirmed that he was definitely watching your ass. 

When you reached the top of the stairs, you split up, silently agreeing to go in opposite directions, you would meet each other in the middle. Sam nodded, eyes dark and focused intently on you as you pulled your blade out of a holster on your thigh. 

There was nothing upstairs, predictably, you had worn this stupid outfit for nothing. Well, maybe not nothing, remembering the heat of Sam’s eyes on your ass, making something curl in your stomach tightly. 

You and Sam had danced around each other since you had first met, you had come to the States, fresh from Australia, confused and kind of alone in the hunting world when the Winchesters had found you and taken you in. It was meant to have been a short-term thing, but they had kept finding reasons for you to stay. 

You didn’t mind, finding a friend in Dean and a never ending crush on Sam. Everything about Sam was just perfect to you, from the way he tried to help everyone so earnestly to the way he dragged his hands through his unruly hair in the morning, his towering height was just another turn on. You once even caught a glimpse of his body as he came out a motel bathroom, the soft skin stretched taut over the lean muscles. God, what you would give to have Sam Winchester, naked just for you to explore. 

You shook your head, dispelling the inappropriate thoughts as you came across the master bedroom of the house, hearing shuffling of drawers inside. It was probably Sam, but you could never be certain, as you held your blade at the ready. 

It was Sam, who stopped his rifling of papers to stare at you, with that same look as before, his jaw tight all over again. 

“See somethin’ you like, Sam?” You teased, leaning against the doorframe, cocking your hip out. 

He cleared his throat and stood, “Yeah.” He said, “I do.” 

You stand upright, not expecting Sam to admit that. “Um.” You say, unsure. 

“You wanna know what I’ve been thinking of all evening?” He asked, stalking closer to you, making you feel like a large predator was cornering you. 

“Yes.” You breathed. He smiled, at your squeaky voice. 

“I’ve been thinking about throwing you on that bed, and fucking you in that little red skirt.” He revealed, those dark eyes watching your reaction closely. 

You bit your lip at the imagery. “I wouldn’t say no.” You finally uttered. His eyes flickered down to your lips, watching your teeth bite the soft, supple flesh. 

“Yeah?” He asks, a dark smile hanging off his lips, “What would you say if I used that angel blade of yours to cut off that corset?” 

You feel something jump inside you at his words, vivid imagination giving you good imagery. 

“I want that, please Sam.” You whisper, as his face gets closer. You lean up to kiss him, his lips hungrily find yours, Sam’s kisses were dominating, coaxing your lips open, his soft tongue reaching into your mouth. You moan against his mouth as his hands find your lace covered ass, Sam pulls off you, panting lightly. 

“You’ve been teasing me all evening, it’s like you wanted me to walk around hard all night.” He snarls. “Watching your ass swaying up those stairs with only a little pair of lace panties covering it.” 

You moan as he takes the blade from your frozen hands, setting it on the nightstand. 

“Lie down,” He demands and you do so, kicking off your heels as you settle on the bed, keeping your knees raised but together, for the time being. 

You watch as Sam opens a drawer across the room, pulling out two work ties, obviously expensive. He strides back towards you, yanking your arms up to each side of the headboard, and securing each wrist to the bedposts. 

“Not too tight?” He asks, and you see everyday Sammy in that question, concerned for your comfort and well-being. 

You nod, not trusting your voice and he finishes securing your left wrist.

“Now, how about I cut off that corset?” He asks, watching you carefully, you arch your back towards him, and he tuts before resting the sharp tip of your angel blade against the first line of ties holding the corset tight. You can see the cord fray just resting the incredibly sharp knife on them and arch your back further, causing the blade to slice the first line of cord.

Sam’s eyes are dark as he drags the blade further down, the knife going through the cords like butter, dull pinging noises as the corset gradually comes loose beneath you until it falls away. You are left in the pirate blouse and tiny red skirt under Sam’s hungry eyes. 

Sam hovers the blade over your cleavage at the start of the neckline, the blade already slicing through the cheap fabric like it is rice paper. When he reaches to your navel he stops, leaning down to kiss the tops of your breasts before pulling the knife all the way through the shirt. 

When the shirt is cut in half he pulls it out from under you, along with the corset, leaving you in your bra and skirt. You know what he’s going to do next, and you almost mourn the loss of a good bra, but who the fuck cares when Sam Winchester is staring at you like he can’t wait to fuck the living daylights out of you?

Sam smirks as he holds the blade in between your breasts, just resting against the lace of your bra. You nod at him, and he slides the blade through the fabric. Your bra gives way easily and your breasts spill out before him, your nipples hard and dark for him. 

He sucks in a breath at the sight, putting the knife on the bedside table and leaning down to suck a nipple into his mouth, laving at the skin before moving to the other. You moan and writhe, not so much at the sensations but more to the fact that Sam is sucking and lavishing attention on your nipples like there’s no tomorrow. His large hands come up and hold your waist and rib cage, trying to stop the arch of your back. 

You shudder at the warmth of Sam’s hands on the cool of your exposed skin, crying out his name when he suddenly nips your breast, sucking to soothe the bite. 

Your hands clench and twist in their ties, wanting nothing more than to bury them deeply in his hair, to feel his body. 

“Come on, Sam” You whine, “Fuck me,” You know how hard he is, he told you, you can see him and God, you can’t wait to get him inside you. 

Sam pulls back from your breasts, standing at the foot of the bed before pulling off his shirt, a quick motion, not designed to be sensual or tease, but goddamn it was anyway. 

Your eyes flicker to his chest, taking in the tan skin, defined pectorals and strong arms, and travelling down to a taut tummy, a fine trail of hair leading into his low-slung jeans. 

You bite your lip as his hands drop to the button on his jeans, the sound of his zipper loud in the relative quiet of the room, both yours and his breath laboured, the muffled thump of music beneath you. 

He pulls his jeans down, stepping out of them swiftly, standing before you in only a tight fitting pair of grey boxer briefs, the tight fabric hugging his erection. 

It was pretty obvious that Sam was well endowed, maybe even more than you would expect for his height, you swallowed, your mouth watering. The light grey fabric also made it apparent that he had been hard for some time, a patch of the fabric dark with pre-cum. He ghosted his hand over his cock, before crawling over the bed towards you again. 

He pulled your legs outward, roughly spreading your legs for him. Pushing your ruffled petticoat and skirt up slightly, you abruptly felt his sharp nose pressing against your lace covered clit. 

A second later and he was brushing his tongue over the soaking lace, making you moan and squirm. 

“God, Y/N, you taste so sweet.” He mutters before scraping his teeth over your clit. 

“Sam, don’t stop,” You cried, your arms pulling against your restraints. Sam continued his attentions for a minute longer, drawing you closer to orgasm with each swipe of his tongue and scrape of his teeth. 

He suddenly pulled back, pulling your skirt back down over your soaking pussy, you whined, confused and beyond aroused. 

“Sam?” You asked, well more half moaned as he untied your wrists, your hands instantly gravitating towards him.

“Shh.” Sam hushed you, “Didn’t I tell you I was gonna fuck you from behind in this little red skirt?” 

You moaned, letting him turn you over and bracing yourself in the soft, downy pillows. 

You could hear Sam ripping open a condom wrapper and the soft sigh as he stroked his own cock, not wanting to miss this you turned your head. Holy fuck… he was big. Watching his large hands slide smoothly down his thick shaft was enough to make you moan, God, you wanted that in you. Now. 

“Please Sam, fuck me.” You begged. 

He groaned at your pleading, shifting forwards and roughly hitching your little red skirt over your ass, he yanked your soaked and ruined panties down your legs, before pressing the head of his cock against your soaking entrance.

You lifted your hips in invitation as he grabbed your ass in two large hands, smoothing his hands over your soft skin before sliding into the hilt. 

He muffled a deep groan into your shoulder as you moaned and cried out. His thrusts after that were harsh and deep, fast and brutal catching something inside you that made you throb around him. 

One huge hand lifted off your ass before coming down in a sharp slap, the unexpected zing of pain making you buck your hips. 

“Oh God, Sam,” you cried, his thrusts still brutally harsh but utterly amazing.  
“I’m close.” You warned. 

He said nothing but moved a hand under you to slide over your clit, circling gently. You moaned into the pillows. 

“Come on Y/N,” He urged “I want you to come around my cock, I’ve wanted this all evening.”

He trailed off, muttering filthy streams of words into your skin, finally pushing you over the edge, pulsing rhythmically around his thick cock. He groaned and a couple of uneven thrusts later followed you in climax.

He held you tight and still as he came, cock buried deep inside you. Your aftershocks milking him for all he had. 

You both collapsed on the bed soon after. exhausted but happy. 

“That was amazing, Sam.” You sigh, before standing, who knew when the owner of the room would come upstairs? You pulled your panties back up your long legs, straightening your skirt and looking for your top when you remembered. 

You turned back to Sam, who was grinning =, his hands behind his head, watching you dress. 

“Ugh.” You mutter, rolling your eyes, but smiling all the same. You decide to pull on Sam’s discarded t-shirt, not really caring how fashionable you looked. 

“What am I gonna wear?” Sam asked, still laughing. 

“I don’t know, nothing?” You tease, not that you would mind. Sam sighs before standing, pulling his underwear and jeans back on. He rivaled a God in physique, no doubt he would probably hate going downstairs shirtless though, but he would do it for your sake. 

“Come on.” He says, grabbing your hand in his and pulling you gently towards the door. He stops you in the doorway for a long, slow kiss, pulling back with a smile, those adorable dimples peeking out. 

“Make sure you keep that skirt.” He says seriously, “I wanna fuck you in it again sometime.” 

“I’ll hold you to that.” You warn, grinning up at him, so content you feel like your heart could burst.

**Author's Note:**

> Please review, it makes my day to hear feedback! 
> 
> also follow me on tumblr for more stories or request @ : darcy-chick.tumblr.com  
> I follow back always!


End file.
